Its Logical Conclusion
by Zenyetta
Summary: A woman comes to Camelot and blatantly proves that she can do real magic.  King Uther has her arrested and sentenced to execution, which doesn't seem to disturb her.  However, Uther has great difficulty in actually killing her.


**Its Logical Conclusion**

A woman walked through the gates of the village of Camelot, stopping occasionally to examine wares on the various market tables. She purchased and apple, a pear and a some grapes, and walked on. The woman walked through the gates of the castle of Camelot, greeting the watch, and into the courtyard. She looked around and saw people coming and going about their business, in pairs or groups or singularly, and totally ignoring her.

She removed her royal blue hooded traveling robe, and pushed up the long sleeves of her simple green linen dress. From the plain leather satchel she had slung over her shoulder the woman took out three juggling sticks and a wooden bowl. She set the bowl on the ground in front of her, lit the ends of the sticks and began to juggle them. She was quite adept at juggling despite her middle-aged appearance. The woman was of average height, slightly plump, with short dark hair with a bit of gray in it.

Presently, a crowd gathered around her, applauding her skills, and a few dropped a coin or two into her bowl. The woman finished her performance, took a bow and extinguished her juggling sticks. Next she took a large coin from her bag. With this she manipulated it through her fingers, increasing and decreasing its number at will. Some in the crowd began to look wary and back away.

"Come, come now, dear friends," she called out. "This is not magic. This is but mere slight of hand."

"It looks to be magic to me," a voice said from above them. On a balcony overlooking the courtyard stood the King of Albion.

"Oh, gracious sire, can you not tell the difference?" the woman answered. "Well, let me show you."

She put away the coin and took out a yellow scarf which she stuffed into her fist. Then when the scarf had totally been stuffed in, she opened her hands and it had disappeared. There was a gasp from the crowd. "That was not magic," she announced, "and I shall prove it." Holding up one hand with fingers spread, she pulled off the false thumb in which the thin scarf had been stuffed and showed it to the king and crowd. There was much applause from the onlookers.

"Now, this is magic," she said and produced a beautiful butterfly four feet wide. It fluttered and flew and landed on her open hand. The crowd backed away even further than before with a gasp. Then the butterfly burst in a myriad of bubbles.

"You are a sorceress!" Uther Pendragon shouted from the balcony.

"Got it in one, Your Majesty!" the woman shouted back.

"Arrest her!" the king ordered. Two guards ran out and grabbed the woman by the arms and held her. "Since you have openly shown yourself to be a sorceress," the king said severely, "You have condemned yourself and I sentence you to death according to the laws of this kingdom. Take her away."

The guards marched her away and the woman went without protest. They chained her by the wrists securely to the cell wall and locked the door. The woman looked around her cell and smiled. There was straw and an old woolen blanket on the stone floor for a bed. Luckily, the guard had allowed her to pick up her traveling robe and bring it with her. That would give her extra warmth should she need it.

Presently, an old gentleman dressed in a brown rough linen robe, came to her cell door. With him was a young man with curiosity written all over his face.

"I am Gaius, the court physician," the man said. "I am here to examine you."

"There's no need to examine me, sir," the woman replied. "I assure you I am in good health." That was true. The physician saw that the woman had clear brown eyes in an unblemished light brown face.

"That's not what I meant," Gaius replied. "I'm here to find out what kind of sorceress you are."

"Oh, I'm the very best kind of sorceress, sir," the woman said. "I am quite good at my craft."

"If you were that good, you wouldn't have been caught," Gaius said. "Why did you came here in the first place? Surely you must know that any kind of magic is forbidden here."

"I know," she answered.

"And yet you chose to come here and display your talents. Why?" Gaius asked.

"Oh, I have my reasons," she replied.

"And I don't suppose you want to tell me what they are?"

"No, Gaius I don't," she said. "Have you nothing to ask me, young man?"

"No, ma'am," Merlin said. "I'm just here to observe and learn."

"Then observe closely and learn well," she said.

"You seem very calm for someone who is to die in the morning," Merlin said.

"That is a very good observation, young sir," the woman said.

"What is your name?" Merlin asked.

"Ah, and now you will learn something. My name is Quillen," she answered.

"I'm Merlin."

"Merlin, this is not a social visit," Gaius admonished. "Where do you come from, Quillen?"

"I come from a place far, far away," Quillen answered. "It has no real name, and it isn't on any map."

"I see," said Gaius. "And are there more like you there?"

"Oh, there's no one like me, but more of my kind are there. My whole family is there."

"Will they come for you? Do they know you're here?" Gaius asked, now growing concerned.

"They will not come here, there's no need for them to do so. And yes, they know I'm here."

"Yet, they have no concern for your safety?" Gaius questioned.

"They have a great concern for my safety, but I'm in no danger here," Quillen replied.

"You are condemned to die in the morning and you do not consider yourself in danger?" Merlin blurted out.

"Don't worry, Merlin, I'll be fine," she told him.

"I've seen enough," said Gaius. "Let's go, Merlin."

"Goodbye, Gaius, Merlin," Quillen said. "See you bright and early in the morning."

Gaius sent Merlin back to his quarters while he reported his findings to King Uther.

"What have you discovered, physician?" the king asked.

"I think I can say with certainty that the woman is insane, sire," Gaius said. "Oh not the kind of insanity that causes one to do harm to oneself or others, no, this is the kind that comes with age."

"She does not seem old enough for such an infirmity," Uther said.

"Perhaps not, sire, but her replies to my questions indicate it," Gaius said.

"Very well, but insane or not, she has proven herself to be a sorceress and she must die."

"Yes, sire," Gaius said with a bow and left. The physician found his charge pacing around the laboratory. "Something troubles you, Merlin?" he asked.

"Quillen troubles me, Gaius," Merlin replied. "Something's not right. Why would she come here and prove to everyone she was a witch? It doesn't make sense. Everyone knows the penalty for using magic is death. She doesn't seem like the type to want to die. Besides, there're easier ways to kill yourself."

"You would be right if we were talking about someone who was rational," Gaius said. "But Quillen is insane. It comes with age for some people, but usually in much later years. For some reason, Quillen has been affected early in her life."

"No, Gaius, there's more to it than that, I'm sure of it," Merlin said.

The next morning, an hour after sunrise, a crowd was gathering in the courtyard of the castle to watch a sorceress die. She would be burned to death. A tall wooden pole had been planted in a hole in the stone paving and bundles of branches placed around it. Quillen was brought out by the guard and secured to the pole. She was dressed only in her green linen dress and she walked to her execution with calm and dignity. The king walked out onto the balcony above the courtyard and addressed the crowd.

"This woman, Quillen, by her own admission is adjudged guilty of using magic. And pursuant to the laws of Camelot I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery there is but one sentence I can pass."

With a nod of his head, the guard set light to the wood pile. There was obviously an accelerant included with the wood for the flames grew quickly. Quillen seemed undisturbed by her predicament and took in the sights around her. Presently the rising smoke appeared to be irritating her nose for it wrinkled and twitched. The crowd saw Quillen take two deep breaths. Then she let out a great sneeze. It was so great a sneeze that it blew out the flames of the fire.

"Sorry," she called out. "Sorry, your majesty. Shall we try it again?"

The guard added more oil to the wood and lit it again. The wood caught and burned energetically. Surely, she would die this time. As everyone watched, a small dark cloud had appeared in the sunny sky. It was very unusual in that it was only about ten feet in diameter and floated just above the execution scene. There was a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder, then it started to rain….extremely heavily….only over the execution. And when the fire was out, it stopped raining and the cloud dissipated.

"Woops!" Quillen shouted and some in the crowd laughed.

King Uther was disturbed by the laughter. If the people started to take magic lightly, the sorcerers and wizards would start to gain a foothold again in the kingdom. He had to find a way to execute this woman and show the people that magic was wrong.

"You seem to think this funny, woman," the king said. "Send for the executioner. She will be beheaded tomorrow," he ordered. "Now, let's see if you find that funny," Uther told her smugly.

Looking down from the turret above the king's balcony, Gaius and Merlin watched to aborted execution.

"Merlin, it's possible you were right," Gaius admitted. "There may be more here than meets the eye. Why put on such a display of power? Why not just leave?"

"Still, Quillen hasn't done anything harmful or dangerous," Merlin pointed out. "I'd say she's been rather playful."

"We'll see what she does tomorrow," said Gaius.

The next morning, the pile of wood had been removed and a tall platform erected. It had a chopping block on it surrounded by fresh straw. The top of the block was hewn so that the victim could comfortable place his or her head in a position for the axe man to do his job. Again Quillen walked to her execution with calm and dignity. Gracefully she lifted the skirt of her dress as she mounted the steps and crossed the platform to stand in front of the block. From his balcony, King Uther gave a short and to the point speech.

"Quillen, you are a witch, you have used sorcery and so you must die. Get on with it," he said.

Quillen knelt before the block and stretched out her neck. The executioner pulled out his axe from under a pile of straw. He'd put it there so as not to alarm the prisoner. Slowly, he raised it up above his head, the crowd collectively inhaling as he did so. Then he brought it down quickly to the prisoner's neck and the crowd flinched and gasped as it landed. But nothing happened. The axe head had been turned into a pillow. Quillen removed the pillow, stood and handed it to the axe man. The executioner was flabbergasted; the crowd was somewhat amused; Merlin and Gaius were astonished; King Uther was pissed.

"Kill her!" he shouted to his guards. The crowd in the courtyard scattered as soldiers ran to the platform carrying crossbows. The executioner jumped down from the platform for his own safety. The soldiers raised their bows and fired. The bolts flew towards Quillen and stopped, then just fell to the ground. The soldiers looked at each other then at the king, seeking new orders, although what sort of orders could be given to dispose of so powerful a witch, none of them knew.

"Return her to the dungeon," the king ordered.

At this point, the soldiers were too afraid to come near the prisoner. So, Quillen took it upon herself to leave the platform and present herself to them.

"Come on, let's go," she said brightly and headed for the door to the lower part of the castle. The guard hesitated a moment then hurried to catch up with her.

Back in her cell, Quillen sat calmly on her pallet juggling small balls of fire, unencumbered by the iron cuffs on her wrists. Presently, King Uther and Prince Arthur came to her cell door.

"Hello, young sir, and who are you?" Quillen said to Arthur.

"I am Prince Arthur Pendragon," he replied proudly.

"Ah, Uther's son. And are you here to learn how to be a king?"

"This is not a social visit," the king interrupted.

"Uther," Quillen said brightly. "You're not having a good day, are you?"

"Even now you show your evil intent," the king said with contempt.

"Evil intent? What evil intent? Juggling is an evil intent?" she asked.

"Sorcery is evil!" he shouted. "As are all who practice it. You want to see magic return to this kingdom and with it the chaos and disorder it induces. You would destroy this realm, and I will not allow it."

"Imagine, all that from juggling," Quillen said. She stopped her display and stood. To their horror, Quillen opened and removed her supposedly locked wrist bindings without a word, and with a snap of her fingers, the bars of her cell vanished.

"Uther Pendragon, if I really wanted to destroy this kingdom, I would have already done so and there would be nothing you could do to stop me," she told him. "I have been in your kingdom for the past year, walking from town to town, village to village. I've stayed at taverns and inns across Albion. I've shopped at markets and fairs all over this land. Tell me, King of Albion, has your realm been destroyed?"

It was plain that Uther was not really listening. "I would have the names of the places you have been. I would have the names of the people who aided you," he said.

"To what end?" Quillen asked.

"To punish them for helping you," Uther replied.

"You would massacre thousands in your paranoia," Quillen said as a statement of fact. "People who's only crime was to sell me an apple or rent me a room for the night. None of them knew who I was and what I could do. But that doesn't matter to you, Uther, does it?"

"Their names, woman, I want their names," Uther growled.

"Well, the joke's on you Uther," Quillen replied. "You'll get no names from me. And as I've said, I've been all over your kingdom. You'll have to execute every innkeeper and tavern owner, every seller in every market throughout the realm to make sure you punish the ones who did business with me."

Uther Pendragon was King of Albion and he was not one to be taunted, ridiculed or made to look a fool, and he was certainly not one to brook defiance.

"Arthur, I want you to take your knights and go into the village. Arrest anyone who could have sold this sorceress anything for her needs," Uther told his son.

"Father, really….." Arthur began.

"And then, I want you to arrest the owners of the taverns and the inns, they may have provided her with a bed," the king ordered, cutting off his son's protest.

"Father, think a moment, please," Arthur pleaded. "These people have done nothing wrong. To execute someone who knowingly and willingly aided and abetted a criminal is one thing, but these people had no knowledge of her sorcery."

"Nonetheless, they are still guilty of giving aid to an enemy. The people must see that the laws of Albion are not to be trifled with. Now, carry out your orders, is that understood?" Uther said.

"Father, in good conscience, I cannot," Arthur replied.

"Your conscience has nothing to do with this. You are my son and heir. You owe me your allegiance and your obedience," said Uther. "Now, do your duty; gather your knights and arrest those people."

"No, sire, I cannot," Arthur replied again. "If you go through with this, think what would happen to the village, to Camelot. Who would want to live here if they could be executed just for saying good morning to someone who happened to be a wizard?" Arthur reasoned. "What merchant would want to set up shop here if he knew he could be hauled away through no fault of his own?"

"Arthur, do not defy me," said Uther. "Either the law stands or this kingdom falls."

"Father, please….," Arthur said, anguished to deny his parent.

"Don't challenge me, boy, I've imprisoned you once, I will not hesitate to do it again." Uther said sternly.

"I'm not challenging you, Father, I'm just trying to make you see reason," Arthur told his father.

"I will say this one last time," said Uther calmly. "Obey me. Do your duty and follow your orders."

"Father, this could destroy the realm," Arthur answered.

"I will have sorcery and magic removed from this kingdom regardless of the cost!" Uther shouted. "Now, arrest those people!"

"No, I will not."

"Guard! Arrest the Crown Prince and convey him to a cell," Uther demanded. Two soldiers grabbed and held Arthur and relieved him of his sword. "He is to be chained and closely guarded. I will find another honorable knight who knows his duty to carry out my orders." And the prince was led away.

"Hello? Remember me?" Quillen said, calling attention to herself and not wanting to be forgotten amongst all the drama. She was still standing in her bar-less cell. "Well, I'm going to leave you now," she told the king. "It's been real."

"The only place you are going is to the block," Uther said.

"You really don't get it, do you?" said Quillen. "Anyway, I may be back some time in the future, you know to put on another show." With a snap of her fingers the cell bars were back. "Have a nice day." And with that she disappeared.

Unnoticed by anyone, a soldier quietly slipped away from his post in the dungeon and hurried to the market in the village. He was urgently seeking his sister and brother-in-law, owners of a bakery.

"Edith, I need to talk to you right now," he said as he came up to her at their outside stall. They retired into the bakery to talk. Inside, Balan, her husband was taking loaves out of the brick oven, while daughters Margaret and Alice kneaded dough for more bread.

"Edmund, what is it?" she asked.

"You've got to get out of here right now," he told her. "Get Balan and the kids, pack a few clothes and food, take whatever money you have and get out of Camelot."

"Why, what's happened," Edith questioned.

"Are we about to be attacked?" Balan asked coming over to them.

"The king is going to arrest anyone who may have aided the sorceress," Edmund said.

"Well, I may have sold her a loaf of bread, but how was I to know she was a sorceress?" Edith said.

"It doesn't matter," Edmund replied. "Since the king doesn't know who specifically did business with her, all are being punished."

"Punished? You mean we may be executed for doing our trade?" Balan asked.

"Yes. Now hurry and get out," he urged then went back to the castle.

Quickly, Edith began closing down her stall. She took a sack and packed it with several rolls of the freshly baked bread. Balan went to the hidden stash of gold coins and secured the purse to his belt. The girls gathered their few clothes and tied them in bundles.

"Edith, Balan, are you in there," called a neighbor at the door. "I need six loaves of bread. What's going on? Why are you packing."

"We're leaving Camelot, Mark," Balan said. "And I'd advise you to leave too."

"Leave? Why?" he asked. Balan told him what his brother-in-law had said. "You run the _Frog and Peach_. Who knows how many times you may have sold her ale or a meal. Your head's on the block, too, and so's your staff's."

Mark turned and bolted for his tavern down the street. In his hurry, Mark bumped into – literally – Agnes, owner of the _Tintagel Inn_, and told her what he knew.

As Agnes ran back to her inn, she spoke hurriedly to other merchants and shopkeepers in the market.

Sir Gareth, Arthur's second in command stood before King Uther, awaiting his orders.

"Listen carefully, Sir Gareth. I want to make myself perfectly clear," Uther said. "You are to gather several knights and as many soldiers as you need. You will go into the village and arrest anyone, understand, anyone who may have given aid to the sorceress Quillen. You will bring them to the dungeons where they will be held for trial."

"Yes, sire," Gareth said. "They will be judged fairly, won't they?"

"Of course," said Uther. "And they will be found guilty for how can they be otherwise. Quillen implicated them from her own lips. She said she bought food and shelter in the village."

"Yes, sire," Gareth replied.

"Good. Now carry out your orders," the king said, but Sir Gareth hesitated.

"Is there some problem, Sir Gareth?" Uther asked him. Gareth's mouth worked as though he wanted to say something. "Yes?" the king prompted.

"Nothing, sire," Gareth answered.

"Very well. You are dismissed," said Uther. Gareth bowed and took his leave.

In the village there was much activity verging on hysteria. People who were not merchants themselves, but had friends or relatives who were fled their homes. Farmers hurried away from their land with sacks of seeds for the next planting, leaving fields green with half-grown plants. If bakers could be arrested for selling a sorcerer a loaf of bread, they reasoned, then could not the one who planted and harvested the grain also be taken? No one was willing to take the chance. Dairymen took their best cows and herded them along old forest paths out of Camelot. The witch may have bought cheese. Everyone was leaving.

The guards at the gate village were uncertain about what they should do, if anything. They had no orders to prevent people from leaving the Camelot. Whole families were going away. They had heard about the king's orders and couldn't blame the people for leaving. Presently, the gate captain sent a man to the castle to inform the king of the people's flight.

Sir Gareth marched twenty knights of Camelot and twenty soldiers at an easy, steady pace, down the main street of the village. They were heading first to the _Frog and Peach _on the far side of the village. Since they were going with the flow of the fleeing populous, this was no problem. Then Sir Gareth notice a soldier trying desperately to make a path in the opposite direction. Gareth halted his troops and called the soldier to him.

"Where are you bound, soldier?" Gareth asked.

"I am sent to the castle by the captain of the gate, my lord," the man replied. "I have to inform the king of what is happening."

"I see. Well, if you are going to the castle, I recommend that you conduct yourself as a soldier of Camelot, and as such we do not run in a panic," instructed Gareth. "We march with dignity and discipline. Do you understand?"

Apparently, the soldier did, because he smiled and straightened himself to attention. "Yes, my lord, I understand completely," he said and marched away at a easy, steady pace.

"Sire, how long is the prince to remain in the dungeon?" Gaius asked.

"Until I am of a mind to release him," Uther replied. "I will not be disobeyed by anyone, not even my own son."

"Very well, sire," said Gaius. "I will go make sure he is comfortable."

"Understand, he is not to be unchained and he is not to receive special meals, Gaius. Arthur will get no special treatment."

"Yes, sire, I understand," the physician replied, bowed and left.

Arthur sat in his cell, brooding. This was worse than the last time his father had put him in a cell. This time he was chained and the iron cuffs chaffed. But he was able to tear off pieces of his already torn blanket and work them into the cuffs where it chaffed the most. They'd brought him his evening meal of hard bread, water and bits of hard cheese. It was most unappetizing, but he needed nourishment. Presently, a guard approached his cell bars.

"Your highness, just so you'll know," the man said, "The innkeepers and merchants are leaving." And he hurried away.

Arthur smiled quietly to himself as he ate the cheese. He knew word would get out into the village somehow. He only hoped most of the people would be gone before his father found out.

"Your highness, how are you faring," Gaius asked as he walked up to Arthur's cell.

"I'm doing surprisingly well, Gaius," Arthur replied rather brightly.

"I must say, I'm surprised to find you almost cheerful, my lord," said Gaius.

"Well, I'm just making the best of a bad situation," Arthur said.

"King Uther has ordered that you will get no special treatment."

"I wouldn't expect to. Tell me, has my father found someone to carry out his orders?"

"Yes, Sir Gareth has gone into the village to make the arrests. He has taken forty knights and soldiers with him."

"Good, good," said Arthur. "And has there been any news from the village?"

"No, my lord, not to my knowledge," said Gaius, suspiciously. "Is there some reason there should be?"

"No, no, just asking," Arthur said, looking innocent.

"Very well, your highness. Then I shall take my leave," Gaius said and departed.

Gaius left the dungeon and headed straight for the front door of the castle. He was going into the village to see what Arthur was hinting at. As he walked through the castle's portcullis and crossed the moat bridge to the village, he saw people hurrying by carrying bundles and pushing carts with belongings piled into them. Merchants were hurriedly closing their stalls – some already looked abandoned. The people of Camelot were fleeing for their lives. It did not matter if they were guilty or not, they weren't taking any chances. Children were crying as they were dragged along by a parent or older sibling. Adults had worried, sometimes terrified looks on their faces.

Presently, Gaius passed Sir Gareth walking back to the castle with his guard. The knights and soldiers surrounded seven elderly people with resigned looks on their faces. Gaius shook his head as they went by. Uther may have gone too far this time. There probably wouldn't be anyone left in the village by nightfall.

The village gate guard knocked at the doors to the council chamber before he entered. "Sire," the soldier said with a bow.

"You have something to report?" the king asked.

"Yes, sire. I am sent by the captain of the gate to inform you that people are leaving the village."

"What do you mean 'people are leaving the village'?" Uther asked.

"People are leaving their homes and shops, sire," the soldier said. "They are leaving Camelot."

"Why haven't you stopped them? Has the gate been closed?"

"No, sire," the man replied. "We've had no orders to close the gate or stop the people."

"Well, you have them now," Uther commanded. "Close the gate. Stop the people leaving." The soldier bowed and left, and with a easy, steady pace, returned to the village gate.

"I hope you are happy now, sire," Morgana said from the doorway. "With everyone gone, you won't have to worry about anyone giving shelter to sorcerers."

"Not now, Morgana," Uther said testily.

"Well, what did you expect would happen?" Morgana argued. "Did you really think people would wait patiently to be dragged away to the dungeon and executed?"

"They would be given fair trials," Uther said.

"Like the fair trial you were going to give Tom the Blacksmith?" Morgana countered.

"I said not now!" Uther hollered.

Sir Gareth entered the council room to make his report. "Sire, I have arrested seven people who worked at the _Frog and Peach_ and the _Tintagel Inn_," he said. "They have been secured in the dungeon."

"Only seven people?" Uther said.

"Yes, sire, the others had gone when we got there," Sir Gareth replied. "I shall return to the village and begin rounding up the merchants." He bowed and left.

"Well, these seven will be given a trial tomorrow," Uther said.

"Uther, you can't be serious," said Morgana. "You would condemn and behead someone on the mere suspicion of guilt?"

"The law must be upheld," said Uther.

"This is not law, it's a pogrom," Morgana answered.

"If there is no rule of law there will be chaos."

"There is chaos already, Uther," Morgana said. "Your people are fleeing for their very lives. They are running from their king. Sire, they are running from you."

"Sire," Gaius said from the doorway with a bow. "I have been through the town. The gates have been closed, but the village is almost empty. And that's not all. The farms have been abandoned too."

"What? The farms?" Uther gasped. "I gave no orders to arrest farmers, why have they gone?"

"Sire, they believe that if you are arresting the baker who sold bread to the witch, you will arrest the farmer who grew the grain to make the bread that was sold," Gaius explained.

"Well, it looks like we're going to have to learn how to bring in the harvest," Morgana quipped. Uther gave her an annoyed look.

Presently, a guard came into the council chamber. "Sire, the physician is urgently needed at the outer southern wall," he announced.

"Why is that? What's happened," Uther asked.

"With the gate closed, people are climbing over the wall, sire," he replied. "The southern wall has the highest ground on the other side. Still, it's a bit of a drop nonetheless. Four people already have broken legs and ankles."

"I will go at once, sire," Gaius said with a bow and accompanied the guard to the injured.

"This is getting ridiculous," Uther said.

"And who's fault is that?" Morgana quipped which didn't help Uther's mood any.

"I will go talk to the people," Uther decided and exited the room.

With a guard of four, King Uther Pendragon walked through his once bustling village to find it strangely quiet. There were overturned stalls and bits of dropped clothing in the streets. Window shutters and doors were closed and barred. Street dogs used the disorder to scarf down food that had been left and was reachable to them. As the sun dropped below the horizon, shadows enveloped the houses, unbroken by any candle light. As Uther neared the village gate, he heard shouting and weeping. He turned a corner and was faced with a large group of people scuffling with the guards to open the gates and get out. Luckily, the injuries appeared to be non-life-threatening, mainly bruises and cuts.

"The King!" someone shouted and the scuffling stopped. The people dropped to their knees with heads bowed, weeping.

"Am I so terrifying that you run from your homes?" he asked them as he approached.

"Majesty," one man cried. "My sister is only a waitress at the _Frog and Peach_. How was she to know that woman was a sorceress? Besides, she has already gone. I beg you, sire, not to punish us for what she may have unknowingly done."

"King Uther, my children are innocent," a woman called out. "Please, let my oldest take the others away." Her eldest couldn't have been more than fourteen years old. "He works in the stables," she continued. "I sell vegetables, sire, to the _Tintagel Inn_. The sorceress may have stayed there and eaten some of my vegetables. Take me if you must, but please release my children."

"Please, sire, don't kill the children. They are innocent," another man shouted. Then others in the crowd began pleading for their children's lives, as they comforted crying toddlers and held babies close to them.

"Am I such a monster that you think I would execute children and babies?" the king asked.

"You wanted to kill the Druid boy," someone said.

"That boy was a danger to this kingdom," Uther replied. "Are any of your children Druids?" People shook their head in the negative. "See, there is no need to leave."

"You executed the former owners of the _Tintagel Inn_ when they gave service to a sorcerer," another shouted out. "How were they to know what he was? They couldn't, but you chopped off their heads anyway."

Uther turned his back to the crowd and walked away a bit, thinking. Arthur had been right. He'd gone too far this time. The village was already in danger of total collapse if more people left. And the castle needed a village to sustain it. The exodus had to stop.

"The arrests will cease as of now. Certain people have been taken and will be given a fair trial in two days," Uther announced to the group. "You may all return to your homes without fear of arrest."

As he was saying this, Sir Gareth was marching up another street with five villagers in tow. They were merchants who hadn't gotten out in time. The king ordered them released.

"Sir Gareth, send out riders to tell the other villagers who've left they may return to their homes and businesses unmolested," the king ordered, then went back to the castle.

The next day, Uther went to visit his son in the dungeon. As he approached the steps leading down to the cells, he heard singing.

"Fifty-six bottles of beer on the wall, fifty-six bottles of beer," Arthur sang out as he sat in his cell. "You take one down and pass it around. Fifty-five bottles of beer on the wall."

"Arthur," the king said as he approached his son's cell.

"Ah, Father, good morning. How are the arrests going?" the prince asked. "Surely you can do better than that lot over there," he said pointing to the seven elderly prisoners in another cell. "Although, I must say we've been having a really nice sing-song down here."

"I've come to release you," the king said.

"So soon?" Arthur quipped. "I mean it's been only, what, a day? Father, don't tell me you're getting soft in your old age?"

"Don't rile me, boy, you'll only make it worse," Uther growled.

"Worse? I'm in prison, chained to a wall, and fed really crappy food," Arthur pointed out. "Unless you execute me, how can it possibly get worse?"

"Open the door," Uther ordered a guard. "Unchain him."

"I'm afraid I can't leave right now. Not until their trial," Arthur said.

"And why is that?" Uther asked his son.

"I'll be defending them, Father," Arthur replied.

"What?" Uther said with amazement. "You can't. They are enemies of the kingdom."

"That remains to be proven, Father," Arthur answered.

"Come out of there, Arthur and we'll discuss this elsewhere."

An unfettered Arthur left his cell and went over to the seven prisoners. "I will be back. I promise," he told them, then left with the king.

In the king's private chambers, father and son confronted each other.

"I forbid you to defend these people," Uther commanded. "They have given aid and comfort to the enemy and they must be punished."

"And how could they have possibly known that?" Arthur asked the king. "A person comes in and asks for a room and a meal. Is the owner supposed to ask, 'Are you a sorcerer?' And do you really expect that person to say, 'Yes'?" Arthur reasoned. "These people don't walk around with 'wizard' painted on their foreheads or hang a sign around their neck that says 'sorceress.'"

"Arthur you have to learn that the laws of this kingdom must be upheld or there is no kingdom," Uther argued.

"Father, don't you understand that the people have left? They're scared to live here," Arthur retorted. "I'm just surprised it took them so long."

"What are you saying?" Uther questioned.

"I'm surprised that the people hung around this long after you executed the _Tintagel's_ former innkeepers," Arthur said. "Say 'Good Morning' to a stranger and get your head removed."

"Arthur, now you exaggerate," said Uther.

"Do I? Do I, Father?" Arthur replied. "You hear the word 'sorcerer' and you lose all perspective. Protecting the kingdom from magic is one thing. But, your hatred of wizardry borders on the insane."

"Watch your mouth, boy," Uther said dangerously. "You will respect me as your father and your king."

"I do respect you, Father," Arthur answered. "You know I do. But somebody's got to make you see what you're doing to Camelot."

"What do you know?" Uther shouted. "You weren't around back then. You have no idea how sorcerers and witches brought trouble and chaos to this kingdom. The ways of the old religion were practiced throughout this land and with it death and destruction walked unchallenged. Igraine…." Uther stopped and turned away.

"What about my mother?" Arthur questioned. "What has she got to do with this?"

"Nothing," Uther replied guiltily.

But Arthur would not be put off. "What are you hiding from me? What aren't you telling me about my mother?" he pressed.

"Shall I tell him, Uther?" a third voice said from another part of the room. Father and son turned to see Quillen standing before them.

"Shall I tell your son why you have this pathological horror of magic?" Quillen asked.

"Tell me," Arthur said sternly. "I demand to know."

"I forbid it!" Uther yelled and drew his sword. As he raised it to strike, Arthur stood in front of Quillen and stared his father down.

"Tell me," said Arthur. "I would know the truth."

"Igraine was the great love of your father," Quillen began. "She was his heart, his very breath. And she loved him just as dearly. Never was there a better match of two hearts than that of Uther and Igraine." Then Quillen stepped from behind Arthur to face Uther.

"Uther Pendragon, I ask you on your honor as a knight and as a king, do I lie?"

Uther lowered his sword. "No, you do not," he said quietly.

"But Igraine was barren," Quillen continued. "There was no heir to Albion, male or female. Uther feared the civil war that would surely follow his death as candidates battled for the throne. To prevent this, Uther went to a sorceress to ask for her help in getting an heir. Do I lie, Uther?

"No, you do not," he said.

"Who was the sorceress? You?" asked Arthur.

"No. It was Nimue," Quillen revealed. "But before she granted this request, she explained to Uther that to create a life there had to be a death. The universe had to maintain a balance and it didn't care whose life was taken. But Uther agreed anyway, probably thinking some underling would snuff it. Or maybe he thought his own life would be forfeit. Anyway, a powerful spell was woven on a night they lay together and Igraine conceived you, Arthur. Do I lie, Pendragon?"

"No, you do not," Uther said and started to sob.

"The pregnancy was easy but the birthing was hard. Igraine lost a lot of blood in the process, but was able to hold you a while, Arthur. Your mother was able to stroke your face and kiss your cheek. In those few minutes, Igraine loved you more than anything and anyone else in the world. Then she died….quietly, happy that she got a chance to know you before she went."

"Magic killed my wife!" Uther cried. "Magic and anyone who uses it must pay for this treachery!"

"Even the innocent, Father?" Arthur asked as silent tears ran down his cheeks.

"There are no innocent!" Uther shouted back. "All are guilty!"

"So, that is why Nimue is taking such vengeance against us," Arthur said.

"She above all of them is the most guilty. It was her spell that took Igraine from me," Uther said.

"It was your request that started the whole thing, Father. Do you really believe you have used fair judgment in this matter?" Arthur asked.

"I will do my duty as king as I see fit, as I always have," Uther said.

"Let the prisoners go, Father. They have done nothing wrong," said Arthur.

"They gave aid and comfort to this witch," Uther said as he pointed an accusing finger at Quillen.

"They gave aid and comfort to a stranger in the village," Arthur retorted. "If Quillen hadn't said anything you would never have known and life would have gone on as usual."

Then, with a quizzical look on his face Arthur asked Quillen, "Why did you come here is the first place?"

"Someone had to show Uther that his policies were in danger of hurting his own kingdom," Quillen replied. "There are bad and evil sorcerers out there to be sure, and you should be wary of them, but there are just as many good ones, who use their gifts in positive ways."

"Let the prisoners go, please Father," Arthur begged.

Finally, Uther relented. "Very well. Tell the guard to release them."

"Thank you, Father," Arthur said as he wiped his eyes and cheeks, then hurried off to the dungeon.

Alone with Quillen, Uther asked, "Why did you tell him?"

"Because he is old enough to know," she answered. "He has a right to know. Besides, he was beginning to think you were off your chum."

Before Uther could say anything further, Quillen vanished.

Gaius and Merlin were both startled when Quillen winked out of nowhere into their presence in the physician's quarters.

"Hello, boys," she greeted. "How's tricks?"

"Quillen, why are you here?" Gaius asked.

"I just stopped by to say bye-bye before I went home," she answered.

"And have you had fun playing the king?" he asked sternly.

"Oh, I think I've gotten my point across," she replied.

"And what is your point?"

"Why don't you take that up with the king," Quillen said. "Merlin, I think you've got really good material to work with."

"What are you talking about?" Merlin asked.

"I'm talking about Arthur. You're helping him become a good king, aren't you?"

"Yes, but…" Merlin started.

"Well, I think he's a very nice young man," Quillen interrupted. "He's still got a lot to learn, and so have you, but I think in the end, he'll make a most excellent king with you as his advisor and magician."

Merlin and Gaius were both taken aback. "How did you know?" Merlin asked.

"I can feel your power," she answered. "I know you've probably been told this already, but I feel you'll make a great wizard, the most powerful ever."

"I don't think I could ever be like you," Merlin said. "I've noticed you don't ever use incantation."

"Well, nobody on this planet is like me," Quillen said. "Have a good life, both of you." And with that she vanished.

"I wonder what she meant by that," Gaius mused.

Quillen glided into the area she inhabited with her family group. "Is that you, Quillen?" an elder of the group asked.

"Yes, Uncle, I'm back," she replied.

"So, how did it go?" he asked.

"I think it went very well, Uncle," Quillen said.

"I just hope you didn't scare them to death. They can be very jumpy people, you know."

"Oh, I'm not at all like you, Uncle Q," Quillen said. "I was very careful."

**THE END**


End file.
